


Coffee

by rolerei



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, First Meetings, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Pining, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Reader-Insert, so could either be read as f/m or m/m, whichever floats your boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolerei/pseuds/rolerei
Summary: When you first met him, the first thing that you noticed was his eyes.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a part of FFVII Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange.
> 
> It's also my first ever FFVII fanfic, though to be honest I've been lurking in the fandom forever. I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

When you first met him, the first thing that you noticed was his eyes. They were so blue, so much that you couldn't believe that they were real.

"... Excuse me?"

You blinked, and the man with blue eyes was still there, standing right in front of the cash register. It took you another two seconds to realize that not only was he very real, he also happened to be a customer.

"... Yes?" you asked back before dropping your gaze. "How can I help you with?"

"I'd like one medium coffee, please."

"Sugar or cream?"

"No, thank you."

"Alright. One black coffee, medium, coming right up."

Reflexively, you reached out to a medium cup and a sharpie - and then you paused. Your heartbeat was loud against your eardrums when you glanced back up and asked, "So... what is your name?"

Those unreal blue eyes widened briefly, before they were hidden behind a row of blond lashes. His answer came out barely louder than a mumble, but it would linger in your thoughts as you scribbled on the paper cup - and for a long time afterwards.

* * *

For the next several weeks, he came back again. Always on a Tuesday, ordering a cup of black coffee. And every time he stopped by, you learned a little something about him.

For example, after the first couple of weeks, you noticed that there was always a growling sound of an engine that preceded his arrival. It turned out that it had been from his motorcycle. It was a custom made one, if another regular's awed comment could be trusted.

Then on another day, he entered past the diner's entrance door, chiming the doorbell in his way. Midway between the door and the counter, however, he paused to pick up his ringing phone and say, "Strife delivery service."

He spent the next few seconds afterwards explaining that he was on the way, that the package would indeed be delivered that very night. And no, the news about sightings of monsters on the mountain pass shouldn't be a cause of delay.

That day, he ordered a small coffee instead of a medium one, and there was a touch of urgency in his voice when he said out his order.

It happened a couple of times, and every time you saw him rushing out with his coffee, you couldn't help but wonder if you would see him again. But then Tuesday came around, and you heard the growl of a motorcycle pulling over in front of the diner. Ten minutes later, you stood before the cash register, trying your best to not look directly in those intense blue eyes while your heart was beating erratically against your eardrums.

"Medium coffee?" you'd ask.

"Yes, and make it black, please," he'd reply.

"Alright. Coming right up."

* * *

Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you just speak up and start a conversation with him. Maybe about his motorcycle, or perhaps about the kind of places that he was delivering to.

But then you remembered that you knew next to nothing about motorcycles, and asking questions about his job might come off as nosy. So you never asked him anything more personal than what he'd like to order - which was always the same.

Sometimes when the light of the sunrise came through the windows just right, and he'd be standing on a perfect spot where his figure would be painted orange and gold, waiting for his coffee, you also couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever thought of the same things about you.

Then as soon as his glance turned to you, you'd hurriedly shake the thoughts away and turn your focus back to the coffee machine. Or the mop, or that stubbornly persistent spot on the counter. Anywhere those blue eyes wouldn't be able to spot the heat streaking across your cheeks.

* * *

One particular week in winter, it started to snow. Everyone thought the snow was going to lift up pretty quickly, but it ended up lasting for a couple of days.

And for both days, you were on shift. The diner was empty most of the time, with a couple motorists stopping by every now and then. It was logical considering the weather. No sane person would want to be out on the road with so much snow unless they really had to.

So it was only natural that you hadn't expected him to stop by. Tuesday came and went, and by Wednesday afternoon, as you were wiping one of the empty tables, you suddenly heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle pulling over.

He came into the diner in a slight hurry, snow clinging to his spiky blond hair and dark clothes. His blue eyes searched around, and eventually settled on you.

"Hey. Is the place open?" he asked, and it was only then did you realize that you had been holding your breath. "Can I still order something?"

"Uh. Yes. In a moment."

You moved almost in autopilot to behind the counter, then settled before the cash register. Your eyes tried not to linger too long on his own before you eventually realized that you had to break the silence.

"So... black coffee, I guess?"

When you accidentally looked at his face, his expression appeared confused. You cursed internally - just in time to hear him say, "Uh. Yeah, actually. And make it medium."

"Alright. Coming right up."

You turned your focus towards the cash register, hoping that the illusion of work could spare you further embarrassment. It would have probably worked much better if your brain didn't immediately tell you that it was a good idea to start small talks, and immediately told you to say out loud, "So... guess the monsters are the least of the troubles in your delivery this time, huh?"

A moment of silence, then a chuckle. "I guess," he replied. "I didn't expect you to know I was working in delivery."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Oh, you know. I may not say much, but I do notice things. Especially when you come here so often."

"Is that so?"

"You betcha."

You turned around to work on the coffee machine, all the while trying your best to calm down the warmth that was spreading fast on your cheeks and neck. All the while, you couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of everything that he was doing while you were not looking. He moved away from the cash register, at one point, and waited by the pickup corner of the counter. All the while, his gaze was continually on you.

"I come here because this place is on the way to where I mostly deliver packages," he said at one point.

"Oh, wow. Who would have guessed that?" you replied, and immediately wanted to kick yourself. Sarcasm, really? You pressed a button on the machine to let it drip hot water on the coffee before turning sideways - and was instantly entrenched by his smile.

"Good point," he said next. "Guess you are as observant as you said, huh?"

You gulped. "Well... you're making it quite easy to do the observing."

You had another urge to kick yourself mentally again until you heard him laughing. Clear and amused. It distracted you enough that you had to tell yourself to stop the machine before it was overflowing the counter with coffee.

"Here you go." You handed him the cup of coffee, and almost had a heart attack when his fingers brushed your skin as he picked up the cup.

"Thanks," he said. "No name written on it this time?"

"No," you answered while looking directly in those clear blue eyes. Your heart was beating loud and hard inside your eardrums. "But I can write down my number, if you want to?"

His smile disappeared for a second before he glanced away - and then nodded. "Yeah... I'd like that."

You reached out to the marker near the cash register, feeling as if your heart was about to burst. And the whole time you wrote down your number on his coffee cup, you couldn't help but be aware of how his focus was completely on you. In a fleeting moment, you also wondered whether he thought that you were kissable.

You licked at your lips before stepping back. "Well, guess this is the point where I ask you to call me, handsome?"

He chuckled once again. "Call me Cloud, and I might seriously consider it."

"Okay, then... Cloud." The name rolled out of your tongue smoothly, and you savored the feeling of it. "I'll talk to you soon, then, maybe, probably?"

Another chuckle, and you were afraid that you'd blown your chances until he said, "Probably more likely than you think, yes."

You grinned, like an idiot.

And, like an idiot, it was only after he left that you remembered you hadn't charged him for his coffee.


End file.
